


...is where we both are us

by smirkingcat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, D/s, Kinbaku, M/M, Shibari
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 14:34:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10515708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smirkingcat/pseuds/smirkingcat
Summary: He asked for it, and his Master granted it, especially as he had been good, while his Master had been away.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the 2017 Round08 over at [hp-kinkfest](http://hp-kinkfest.livejournal.com/) over at lj  
>  **Prompt Number:** S38 submitted by nia_kantorka  
>  **Kink Showcased:** Shibari/Kinbaku  
>  **Author's Notes:** first i did research on this one, and if you are interested in shibari is usually called kinbaku in japan, as it is a form of art for them and they see it differently like western bondage, as the rigger and the one to be bound (victim seems wrong here) have to work together, and only then the true beauty will come out, i tried to imply that in my fic.  
>  then i have to say thank you to a the best of people, who helped made this fic possible and the best i can make (and really it's only this good due to their help) in alphabetical order: , and for all the suggestions, motivation, encouragement alpha and beta readings endless hours of discussions and me freaking out ~~once, thrice~~ 100times. THANK YOU SO MUCH! this truly is your fic!  
>  i hope you will like what i did with your prompt nia, and to the rest- please enjoy!

Before Ron could open the door himself, it was opened for him, and he stepped through it without a thought. Softly, the door closed behind him, and he felt the wards settle.

“Welcome home, sir,” the smooth voice greeted him, making Ron smile.

“Glad to be back,” he said, moving his fingers through Blaise’s hair, as he knelt in front of him. Ron leaned down. “Glad to be home, my beauty,” he whispered into Blaise’s ear, watching a shiver work its way down his lithe frame.

When he shifted back, Blaise moved his head, making eye contact for the first time.

Ron loved this ritual they had established; it was the warm welcome he longed for, when he was away for more than two days in a row. Seeing Blaise’s relief at him being back was just the cherry on top.

“So?” he prompted, when Blaise kept silent.

“It arrived.”

There was a slight hitch in his voice and Ron could feel the muscles in his lips twitch. He adored that hitch, because it was a sign that there were no masks; that they were just them.

“The day before yesterday,” Blaise added softly, making Ron able to understand the anticipation that had built up.

“Let’s go to the living room,” Ron said. It would do them no good if he got stuck in Blaise’s emotional turmoil; they worked best with him in control, and their routine was as much a way for Blaise to calm down as it was for himself.

In the living room, Ron sat in his velvet covered high wingback chair and waited for Blaise to return with his juice. It was rare for Blaise to be this flustered right from the get go. They had been together now for years. They knew each other well enough that he would make sure that nothing was bothering his beautiful man.

Blaise, in his usual efficiency was back within five minutes with Ron’s favourite strawberry juice and a glass of water for himself. After Ron took his glass from the tray, Blaise put it down on the small table next to his cushion and waited. The twitching of his toes gave Blaise away, like it always did. 

“Okay, stop. What is bothering you?” Ron asked. He wanted to head off his partner before the situation turned messy. They grew together, there were signs, and just like Blaise stopping him when it felt all wrong because he had lost his balance, it was on him to stop Blaise. 

“I don’t know,” Blaise grit out, his lips tight.

“We don’t have to —”

“NO! I want this. I really do, it was my idea —”

“That doesn’t mean anything, Blaise. We can do it later, talk more—”

“I’m afraid that I will like it more than I should. All the images, when I imagine myself in those positions, what if...” 

Ron let the silence stretch for a minute before he prompted Blaise to speak again: “What if?” 

“What if I crave them afterwards even more than I do now- I should not crave them this much, but I do.” Blaise hung his head. 

Ron stood up, got on one knee next to Blaise and lifted his head, looking into his eyes.  
“You know there is nothing wrong with you craving this. There is nothing wrong with us, with the way we do things, with the things we share. It might not make sense to anybody else, but it makes sense between us. Never doubt what you want, because I’m right there with you, and you know you should never doubt me, Gryffindor ridiculousness, your Master and all that,” he said sternly. 

Ron sighed on the inside. When Blaise had to go and visit his friends alone, he always started to doubt himself; started to think that maybe he was wrong simply because they lived such a different life from the one his friends had. Usually Ron would be there with him, able to put his hand around Blaise's wrist and ground him in what they shared. This time though, he had been on a business-trip for nearly two weeks. Maybe they ought to do this another time, he thought. It was only that he had promised Blaise this reward.

“What do you say if we start slowly with you giving me a massage— because, really, George had me working hard— and then you let me know if it works for you, or if we do it another time?” he asked. There was a time to order, a time to demand and a time for questioning, and by now he could recognise what Blaise needed just by watching the way he held his body. He loved his beautiful partner— not just for the pleasure they both got from each other, but also for being allowed to understand the other man so implicitly. 

“Yes, sir,” Blaise nodded and moved back into the scene.

Ron nodded and stood. He finished his juice, before going to the bedroom.

Blaise entered behind him, and started to remove Ron’s jumper first, and then opened the buttons from his shirt. He did so with a grace Ron himself could never master, and simply watching him pleased Ron.

As soon as his upper body was naked, he lay on the bed, waiting to be attended to.  
Blaise gave the best of massages! He did not disappoint this time around: every knot in Ron’s back simply seemed to melt away under his fingers.

After some time, there was a loud, deep breath from where Blaise was kneeling next to him, assuring Ron that Blaise had himself back under control. He still let the massage continue for a little while longer until he and Blaise both were fully relaxed by the familiarity of the task.  
He lifted his head, then got up on his hands: the silent gesture for Blaise that the massage was done. Sure as clockwork, Blaise stopped his finger movements and left the bed to kneel in front of it.

“How are you feeling now?” Ron asked as he sat on the bed, looking down at Blaise.

“Good, calm. More like myself. Still a little bit excited.” 

“What are you excited about?” Ron asked to make sure.

“About how it will feel to have you knot me up. This will be different than the normal bindings.”

“Ropes, Japanese style binding will be different in many ways, than what we have done so far. You know that in the Eastern tradition this is considered teamwork.”

“Yes. And I know you will make it good for me; you always do. I trust you,” Blaise said, hiding his grin by looking down, but Ron knew it was there nonetheless.

He knew that others might punish Blaise for his cheekiness. Back at the beginning he had certainly done that too. But then he understood that Blaise would always speak in cheeky ways when he was confessing things from his heart. Now those things just made him smile and endear Ron even more to his beauty. 

“Get the parcel,” he ordered, moving to the bottom edge of the bed, to put his feet down.

Blaise got the inconspicuous package from their walk-in cupboard and handed it over to him. Ron opened it without reserve. It held their cords of fine Japanese jute rope that they had ordered. Most of the bundles were about twenty-five feet long, with two of them being thirty-five feet. Each rope was five-sixteenths of an inch thick.

The thickness was not traditional, as a quarter of an inch seemed too narrow to them, but the length was familiar. The jute had a very distinct smell— that's why they had agreed on it— and soon the air was filled with it.

As Ron took out the first bundle Blaise let out a sharp intake of breath. Ron stopped the movement to watch Blaise closely, but there was no discomfort. 

“Good?” Ron still asked. He didn’t normally need to in their usual ways, but today was different. Today they would do something new, and while he was certain he could read Blaise well enough, after the unusual nervousness from before, he had to make sure. 

“Yes,” Blaise breathed, focusing his eyes on Ron’s, showing that he really wanted to do this. 

“Then start stretching and warming up, I shall prepare the room,” Ron ordered, business-like and put the parcel down. 

That was also routine for them. As their relationship was built around their need for dominance and submission, they usually needed some time before a scene to get into the right mindset. A scene was not the whole of their relationship, and they handled themselves differently in one than they did outside of it. But outside of the scene they were still Master and sub, and Blaise still deferred to him for guidance. Normally, Blaise was Ron's Beauty, but inside a scene he was his Boy.

That had been new to Ron, like many other things, but if he rushed Blaise now— did not give him several moments— Blaise would not seek his own enjoyment in the scene, but would do everything to please Ron, even going beyond his limits and his comfort. Experience was the harshest teacher of all.

It was also part of the after care. Blaise did not enjoy being left alone after a scene, and going around then to fumble for supplies they would need, like water, a small snack, and blankets was simply not an option. At last, because Ron liked to play it safe, he also summoned a pair of scissors to lay on the cupboard, and Blaise's sharp dagger, which found its place on Ron’s belt— just in case.

While Blaise had no experience with the rope, Ron had learned this skill during his travels after the war, which he had taken to learn more about himself. It may have been due to that time that he rarely used his wand in a scene. Sometimes doing things the muggle way, taking the time it needed to be done, was the enjoyment of it.

When he was certain he had everything they would need during and afterwards, he sat down in a similar high wingback chair, like the one in the living room, and called for Blaise.

With confident strides Blaise entered the room and stood in the middle of their Persian carpet, waiting. 

“Undress slowly, beautiful, I want to watch, as I haven't had the pleasure of seeing you naked for weeks,” Ron ordered and leaned back more comfortably. 

He would make this so good for his love, that Blaise would never doubt his wants again!

###

Blaise controlled the smile he felt on the inside, not letting it slip out. Ron always liked to watch, and he would let his gaze roam freely over Blaise's body. Like a touch, he would note the slightest twitch and either increase the sensation and therefore take Blaise higher, or he would stop, giving Blaise a chance to catch up.

Blaise was well aware that as far as subs went, he was on the high maintenance list. He was rather slow on the uptake, and often had to work against his upbringing to really get what he needed. Luckily, he had only had one other failure of a Master, before he had met Ron. They simply clicked; there were bumps and mistakes, but never enough to entirely give up on each other. And, in a way, it was now too late for them— they had gotten used to each other. 

The shirt was easily enough to remove. Ron was always fascinated when he opened each button one at a time and then simply let it slide down. His trousers were a different thing. Blaise was not certain there was an erotic way to get out of trousers, so he would open them slowly, push them down, let them collect around his feet and simply step out of them. Mostly these days he did not bother with underwear at home. He simply didn’t see a point to them, especially as it would take more time to get naked. And like today, he really did not want to waste time on undressing. 

“So much grace, boy. One must admire you. I can see all the hearts you broke while never even taking notice of them. And now you are all mine, to do as I please,” his Master spoke softly as he stepped closer. 

“Yes sir,” Blaise replied, because he wanted to affirm Ron’s claim. He _was_ all Ron’s.

“And today I shall frame your beauty even more so,” was whispered in his ear, as his Master's fingers moved over his torso. “You will be so beautiful, and so perfectly helpless at the same time. I can already see it; such a sight,” his Master spoke further, making him catch his breath. 

Yes, that was what he wanted— needed. 

Blaise did not know when his Master had grabbed the rope, but he felt the length being put around his neck to meet in the front. It was an odd sensation at first, and as he saw Ron twist it four times he wondered how it would go on.

For their first time Blaise had vetoed a blindfold: he wanted to see what Ron was doing. Ever since Ron told him that he had bound people in the Japanese tradition, it had become of interest to him. Nearly a month ago, he had finally gathered the courage to ask. He wanted to experience this with all his senses.

“Stretch your arms out, and hold them wide,” his Master ordered and Blaise complied.

The rope slithered down in front of him, only to be taken between his legs and then pushed back. The rope felt soft but also hard against his skin. Blaise was not sure what he was supposed to feel, but at the moment he found he was rather ticklish at one spot where the rope hit him. That for certain was the wrong sensation to have, was he doing something wrong?!

“Beautiful? Why are you tensing up?” His Master was right behind him. He could feel Ron's chest right next to him.  
Blaise took a deep breath.

“It tickles. It shouldn’t tickle, right?” Blaise mumbled, knowing that if he stayed quiet, this would stop.

“If it tickles, it tickles,” Ron said easily enough. “Tell me where it tickles.”

“Right behind... next to—”

“Where does it tickle?”

 _Damn, should have said it outright._  
“Behind my testicles,” he said and took a deep breath.

“Do you mean this rope,” his Master pulled on the one strands, “or this one?” He tried the other one, before pulling on both of them. Blaise first laughed at the strange sensation, then had to catch his breath. THAT had felt odd but not bad.

“Oh you will love this, boy, you will love it so much when I’m done with you,” his Master promised.  
And then the rope moved again, waving from the back to loop around the two cords in the front. Each twist was decorated with a loop, breaking the twist and stretching it like a diamond across his body. 

Blaise felt the rope glide against his skin and against itself, tying together and gripping him. Ron’s long fingers put each rope in place, and caressed his skin, sending shivers down his spine.  
It happened ever so gradually that Blaise only half took notice of the rope pattern evolving, of his breath evening, of the arousal taking place. He could feel Ron’s fingers at his back, and could sense the knots shifting together. Slowly he became aware that his arms were starting to feel heavy, and he began to be aware of his feet standing, while at the front the rope moved ever so slightly with each breath he took

“Take your arms down, slowly,” was spoken at his neck, while there was a soft kiss placed there, making Blaise jerk slightly at the different sensation. 

He followed the order, and then the sensation of his blood rushing back into his fingers took over his awareness. Blaise never realised that he had closed his eyes, nor was he aware of the ropes Ron had used to bind his upper arms to his body. 

It felt nice. He knew his Master was close to him, would take care of him, would be there. Some part of his mind came to a halt, making everything besides his Master, the rope that bound him and himself insignificant. Time slipped away.

Ron’s fingers were moving up his back, stroking over the rope and his skin, making Blaise breathe even deeper. He was grateful that Ron did not try to speak to him just then, when he was about to drown in the sensations he was receiving. Deciphering speech at that moment would just pull him back. No matter what, he was his mother's son, he always had to be on top of everything— everything but Ron, because Ron got him in a way no one else could.

The long fingers around his erection made him jerk again, but the strong body behind him kept him from losing his balance. This was not over; his Master was not yet done with him.

Then there was rope where his Master's fingers had been. He felt the moment Ron stepped away from him, trusting him to stand on his own two feet. And he would. He could, in fact it was easy. 

And then the rope started to bite slightly into his hot flesh. It was an itching sensation, and the fingers brushing against his sensitive skin there were slowly driving him mad. With the added pull on his balls, he started to hear his heartbeat in his ears, while not daring to watch Ron actually putting the rope on. This felt painful—stinging, but in a good way. He didn’t want to move even a muscle.

Fingers were once again wandering over his torso, this time at the front, tweaking one of his nipples, making him moan. And then there was a kiss right on the sternum. 

“Insane— so... so—,” Blaise whispered, feeling his arm muscles twitch.

“You feel good?” his Master asked, kissing his earlobe.

“Yes,” escaped Blaise's mouth. His ears always, always got more sensitive, when he got turned on. It would be embarrassing— it had been in the past— but now he felt comfortable enough to even lean slightly into the caress and enjoy the tingling sensation that he got out of it. 

“Kneel down, boy,” Ron ordered, his hands steadying on Blaise’s shoulders. Blaise let himself drop to his knees, feeling a tightening on the ropes across his upper body. 

“Spread your legs.” 

Another order, and Blaise did so without a thought.  
The gasp escaped him due to the sudden strain on his balls, and the tightening of the rope the wider he spread his legs. 

“Are you comfortable?” 

“Yes, sir,” he answered without a doubt.

“Will you be comfortable in this position for a while?” Ron asked again.

Blaise let the question sink in. Would he be comfortable in this position for a while?  
There was a slight strain on his knees— but he was used to that and would soon enough be able to ignore it. His erection and balls were pressed by the rope, and each breath made them shift ever so slightly, but that was intended. Nothing hurt. 

“Yes, sir,” he said again.

“Good, my boy, then move your lower arms, next to your ankles.” 

Blaise positioned his arms as he was told, and started to note that there would be a buildup of strain on his arms. The mere thought of it excited him, but for the moment it was unusually comfortable. 

That time, even though he had not seen Ron move, he expected the rope that bound his wrists to his ankles. He did not, however, anticipate the slight tug on one of the ropes that hung from his penis. This was going to be interesting later on, and Blaise nearly could not wait for that time to come. 

“Beauty, you are tensing again.” 

“All good. Just my excitement getting the better of me,” Blaise answered easily, realising that he had dragged himself out due to his own thoughts and assumptions. 

“Where have you wandered off to, then?” Ron spoke softly with him, his hands resting on Blaise's shoulders, keeping him in the present. 

“In the assumptions on how the rope, this position will feel later on— how I will feel then, and wondering if I can go there,” he answered. 

Shibari, or Kinbaku as Ron has told him it was called in Japan, was so different from the western art of bondage. It was not about the punishment, it was about the rope binding people and by binding them, setting them free. Blaise knew this. However, he also knew himself, and at the moment he wanted to be there, _not_ get there. 

“Take a deep breath and count aloud to three,” Ron ordered him, making Blaise focus on the outside and calming his racing mind. 

_Deep breath in-_  
“One - two - three,” he said clearly.  
_Deep breath out._

“Again.”

 _Deep breath in-_  
“One - two - three.”  
_Deep breath out._

“Once more, silently. Just breathe, feel the air in your body, and feel the position of your body.” 

_Deep breath in-_  
One - two - three.  
Deep breath out. 

With a slight shudder the tension moved out of his body, and Blaise was engulfed in the ropes again, holding him in place, while Ron just stood behind him. The more he relaxed, the better he could feel the rope moving with his breath, binding his body in place, making him unable to move. 

“Yes, that's it. Give yourself to my bindings. They will hold you, and guide you,” Ron said as he stroked through his hair once more. 

Blaise felt how Ron slowly finished his right side up and started to bind his left side. This time he let it happen, just let everything drift away.  
He was vaguely aware of Ron kissing his lips softly before stepping away, sitting down in his chair a mere three steps away, in front of him. 

At first Blaise felt a hint of irritation. He was hard, he was in need and he could not move! His Master was too far away to help him. The built up need just thrummed in his body. His hips jerked every now and then, but the ropes only made the itching worse, not better. The bindings held no relief for him. He was utterly helpless in them, victim to his own mind and the pleasure and tension wracking his body.  
Time started to lose any and all meaning, as he himself gradually drifted away.

*

Slowly, Blaise opened his eyes. His first reaction to move was halted as he remembered he was bound. That also explained the heavy feeling in his arms and legs. He lifted his head, and found Ron’s gaze on him. 

“I fell asleep,” he said in self-realisation, still feeling dazed. His Master nodded.

“You did, for about the last hour.” 

His Master stepped closer, holding a glass of cold water to his lips. It was only as the first drops touched his lips that Blaise realised how thirsty he was. He gulped down the water, making some splatter and hit his chest. The jerk he gave in response made him aware of different things at the same time: he was incredibly hard, hot, and very much bound in a way that was getting painful, but mostly because he could not move. Each twitch would make the rope on his erection make him jerk some more, each squirm would make a different part of the cord move, like many tiny groping fingers. 

He moaned loudly. 

“How do you like the rope, boy,” his Master whispered in his ear, making him moan again. 

“Fuck!” Suddenly it was hard to get enough air in his lungs, and each movement just seemed to make his situation worse. 

“I intend to. After all, I had to watch you the whole time, being put together like a gift waiting to be unwrapped by me.” 

The caress on across his nipple was not really helping, but it got even worse when Ron’s fingers ghosted across his erection, pulling on the rope ever so slightly. 

“Fuck, no.” Blaise’s hips jerked, making the cord across his testicles tighten ever so slightly, enough to make them agonizing for a moment. 

“No? Really, do you think you have a say in this, boy?” his Master asked, pitching his voice lower, making it sound dangerous. 

“No— not— I mean yes— yes, sir.” Blaise fumbled feeling how his mind no longer seemed to work the way he wanted it to work. 

“Well then, boy, how about some appreciation for your Master?” His Master asked and pulled out his own hard cock. 

Blaise’s tongue wetted his lips. Oh yes, he always wanted to worship Ron’s cock just because it was Ron’s. It tasted good and it was about as perfect as they come, with the soft red curls to finish it off.  
However as he tried to strain himself to start licking the wanted flesh, his restraints held him back. He looked up to his Master, who raised an eyebrow at him.

“Getting the idea yet, boy?”

The question made him shiver again. 

“Yes, sir.” 

He sat back, relaxed his shoulder and neck muscles as best as he could and opened his mouth for his Master to do as he pleased. 

“Good boy,” his Master complimented him, and moved his fingers through Blaise’s hair, until his hand rested comfortingly the back of Blaise's head.

Blaise felt the tip of his Master’s cock against his lip and eagerly moved his tongue against it, tasting the first drops there. 

“Such a good boy, so well trained,” was the praise he received. Slowly, his Master moved, filling his mouth. 

Blaise enjoyed the weight of his Master's cock against his tongue and did his best to caress as much of it as he could. 

His Master moved ever so slowly, prolonging each time he stayed in Blaise’s mouth, while at the same time claiming his mouth deeper and deeper. Blaise just stayed still, breathing when he should, and enjoying the shivers he managed to elicit from his Master. The best part was the deep, raspy breaths and moans his Master would always share openly with him, showing his appreciation for what Blaise was doing to him. 

“Well done, my boy, well done,” his Master said, as he removed his cock, after he had pushed in deeper and stayed longer than before.

Blaise let the praise fill him with pride, while trying to get his ragged breathing under control. He took a final deep breath and stared up his Master, who smiled down at him, before he reached and did something to one of the ropes on his back. Not that Blaise felt a huge change, but then, he never saw his back. 

“Lean slowly forward, boy,” his Master commanded. 

Blaise followed the order, always afraid of being restrained, but nothing of the sort happened. He could in fact move so far that he was resting on his chest and shoulders. He realised that this position also lifted his arse in the air. 

“So beautiful, especially when you do as you are told, aren’t you my boy?” his Master crooned. His hands were travelling over Blaise's back, tugging slightly on ropes, making his skin twitch, and his hips jerk as the rope around his balls once more tightened. 

“How do you like the ropes now?” his Master teased, not that Blaise was able to answer beyond a loud moan as his Master tugged at them some more, making the fine jute scrape over his skin. 

“I knew you would like this, boy. And it makes me want you so much more,” his Master spoke, and Blaise took the compliment, moving into his Master's caress, even if it made the rope sting a little more. 

“Please,” he whimpered, as the fingers of his Master ghosted over his tightly wound erection, caressing his balls and moving further back. “Please,” he begged again, this time with the longing he had held at bay for the two weeks his Master had been gone. 

“Such a good boy,” his Master said, but still took his time to move his fingers, caressing his prickling skin.

Blaise longed for the touch, would move into it, if he only could. The first kiss was placed at his neck, right next to the rope.  
"Such a beautiful boy," was whispered again, making him whimper. 

Taking his sweet time, his Master kissed over his back, everywhere but over his spine where the rope still held him. His ministrations made Blaise twitch and moan over and over. Then there was a kiss placed right next to his entrance, making him squirm. In his ears his heartbeat pounded and Blaise couldn't say anymore how loud he was being. His Master's fingers on him— his attention— and the promise of so much more was taking him even higher.

Blaise wanted it to be over, and wanted it to never end all at the same time. He got lost in sensation, until there was nothing but the ropes holding his body and the touch of his Master in his mind. The first nudge of a finger hadn't been anything special, it just egged him on further. The hot breath, on the other hand, was something quite different. If he was asked, he never was certain if he enjoyed the strange sensation of that intimate kiss. But when there was no choice, the pleasure nearly was too much: the slow tongue strokes, the deep sensations, when he pushed inside.. His body tensed under the onslaught of sensation.

He moaned softly as he felt the intrusion of the slicked finger of his Master. He could not change the situation, even if he wanted, and this made it all the better. He simply had to take it, and his Master gave it to him so good. He made him moan and squirm as his sweet spot was massaged to a point where Blaise was so overwhelmed with sensation he could not say if it felt too good, or was too much, or anything at all.

Only as shudders were working their ways through his body, did his Master stop, giving him a moment to control his urge to come. 

“Good boy,” his Master whispered in his ear, making his groan sound helpless and loud, even to him. 

And then— finally—his Master claimed him as he pressed inside. Though it was not the instant relief he wished for, the feeling was still incredible. Each movement of his Master took him higher until his mind was unable to focus on anything but the one standing order that never was to be broken— _Don’t come before your Master._ And at the moment it took every inch of his still working will, as well as the help of the rope for him to not let go. He was certain it was more the rope than him, because he felt so damn good, and everything was prickling while his mind went blank with each touch from his Master. 

And then he felt the tightness of the rope lessen and, at first, he was grateful, until he felt an urgent telltale wetness against his stomach, signaling his impending orgasm.

“No— no please— can’t,” he whimpered overpowered by the sensation and the need. 

“Try, my boy,” was murmured in his ear, making him lose control over his vocals. He wasn't sure if he was whimpering or screaming. 

“So good, my boy. So hot!” 

His Master was tensing, thrusting deeper. Blaise could feel the heat pulsing inside of him, filling him up.  
He was whimpering for sure, then, as the wetness grew, leaking from his throbbing cock. He felt like he was failing, and his Master had not yet realised. 

“Come, boy, come for me now.” 

The words did not fully sink in before Blaise felt his control slipping away from him. He came hard, his cock twitching and spurting his release over his stomach and the remaining rope. He felt like the last of his strength was disappearing, every tension vanishing, as the sweet shudders of his release washed over him.

###

Ron softly kissed the neck right in front of him, while holding himself up on his arms, so as not to squash Blaise with his weight.

He pulled out of Blaise slowly, still keeping one hand always on Blaise while removing the ropes, which he had already opened before. He simply let the cord slide down from Blaise’s body and then reached for his wand to conjure a warm, wet flannel. He carefully cleaned the mess they both had made on Blaise, while trying not to drag Blaise back already. His beauty had been such a good boy; he deserved to be in that cloud a little longer.

He got the blanket and put it around Blaise before he picked him up and laid him on the bed, sliding in with him, holding him close, and slowly drawing different patterns over Blaise's back. The rope certainly had left its mark. Not that one string broke skin but for the next few hours the pattern would be visible— a sweet memory of the incredible thing they just shared.

Ron had to admit he still felt a little high: watching Blaise give himself over so completely over always did that to him. To have someone trust him so much, he never had thought it would happen.

Ron looked down as Blaise took his hand, to still the movement and hold on to it, before there was a final deep breath. Ron smiled softly, kissing Blaise's forehead. Sleep with his love in his arms, after they had been separated for so long, was the right idea. Ron pulled the blanket over the two of them, and cuddled close to his beauty.  
Home.  


**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to comment here or over at [@lj](http://smirkingcat.livejournal.com/69145.html)  
> Hope you enjoyed it!


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